


our cracking bones make noise

by brinnanza



Series: The More the Merrier [10]
Category: MASH (TV)
Genre: Angst, Discussed but not necessarily committed, Episode Related, Episode: s08e23 War Co-Respondent, Established Relationship, Infidelity, M/M, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-24
Updated: 2018-05-24
Packaged: 2019-05-13 10:31:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14747150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brinnanza/pseuds/brinnanza
Summary: That’s different, Hawkeye doesn’t say. Is it really? How can Hawkeye tell Aggie to lay off when he doesn’t, when he spends as much time as he can curled up beside BJ in a too-small bunk, stealing kisses between tents, letting hands wander under mess tent tables.What the hell makes Hawkeye so special?





	our cracking bones make noise

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from Ingrid Michaelson's "Breakable". Thanks to Floot for beta reading.

Hawkeye falls into step beside Aggie on her way out of Post-Op and tries not to be offended by her knee-jerk wince when she sees who it is. “As words are your stock in trade, I wonder if I might have one?” he says in his most charming tone. It’s considerably dialed down from the boyish, slightly manic one he’d been using on her earlier (if only so she won’t dismiss him out of hand).

Aggie looks him over, probably searching for an ulterior motive. He has one, of course, but it’s not the one she’s thinking of. “Okay,” she says. “How’s that?”

Hawkeye blows out a breath that could, if one were so inclined, be interpreted as a somewhat unenthusiastic laugh. “Perfect. How about I give you some in return?”

“If you insist.”

“Here, can we --” He gestures between two tents, off the main path but not exactly hidden. Aggie gives him an extremely skeptical eyebrow, and he says, “Words only. Scout’s honor.”

Aggie follows him, but her skeptical eyebrow climbs a little higher. “I find it hard to believe you were ever a boy scout.”

“No, but I spent as much time as I could with the girl scouts.” Hawkeye puts his hands up peaceably. “I just want to talk to you, as difficult as that might be to believe.”

Aggie crosses her arms over his chest, frowning a little. “Okay, so talk.”

Hawkeye takes a deep breath. “I want you to lay off BJ.”

“You do,” Aggie deadpans, lifting both of her eyebrows at him now.

“I do,” Hawkeye says. And okay, yes, maybe Hawkeye is not the best person to deliver such a request, but he’s also the only one who will. “Look, I don’t really get it myself, but BJ is kind of a rare bird in Korea. He’s a no-fly zone. Captain of the fidelity squad. You batting your eyelashes at him isn’t making it any easier for him to be half a world away from his family.”

The corner of Aggie’s mouth twitches like she’s thinking about smirking but then decides better of it. “BJ’s a big boy, Hawkeye. I think he can make his own decisions.”

“He already _has_ ,” Hawkeye points out. Not that BJ had said anything either way, but gossip spreads faster than dysentery in this camp, and he’s sure he’d have heard. “So let him be. There are plenty of other eligible single doctors around these parts.”

“Some of whom I’ve already said no to,” Aggie says, a teasing lilt to her voice that’s not entirely friendly. “That wouldn’t have anything to do with this little shovel talk, would it?”

“This isn’t a shovel talk. Shovel talks are against my Hippocratic oath. I’m just saying, if you care for BJ at all, you’ll go easy on him.”

“Like you do?”

Hawkeye pauses for just a heartbeat too long. “Like I do what?”

“People talk,” Aggie says. “I listen. It’s my job.”

Hawkeye’s breath catches against ice in his chest. The 4077th is a good bunch, especially without Frank Burns, but not everyone is as dedicated to a couple of war docs as their dedicated pen of orderlies. Hawkeye never bothers to hide his proclivities, but he’s not willing to risk BJ’s career. “People say a lot of things,” he says, keeping his voice deliberately light. “I heard once that General MacArthur doesn’t sweat.” 

Aggie puts her hands up. “I’m not interested in making trouble for either of you. Your business is your business. I’m just saying that’s it’s awfully rich hearing I should stop pursuing a married man, this married man in particular, coming from you. So why don’t you climb on down from your high horse and we’ll both go our separate ways, hmm?”

_That’s different_ , Hawkeye doesn’t say. Is it really? How can Hawkeye tell Aggie to lay off when he doesn’t, when he spends as much time as he can curled up beside BJ in a too-small bunk, stealing kisses between tents, letting hands wander under mess tent tables.

What the hell makes Hawkeye so special?

Aggie watches it play out over his face, her eyebrows climbing to smug new heights. “You might want to take another look at that oath of yours, Hawkeye. I don’t believe the father of medicine is called ‘hypocrites’.” She steps around Hawkeye and back onto the path, leaving him there in the dust.

It’s probably where he belongs.

\--

It’s late when BJ comes back to the Swamp, and he pauses by Hawkeye’s bunk on the way to his own to steal a kiss. Hawkeye lets him. BJ’s mouth is only one of the many things Hawkeye can’t say no to, even if he should.

“I wasn’t sure I’d see you tonight,” Hawkeye says carefully as BJ makes his way to the other side of the tent. He should leave it alone, let BJ make his own decisions, but it’s like a bruise he can’t stop prodding, no matter how much it hurts.

“Charles is on Post Op tonight,” BJ says. It isn’t what Hawkeye meant and he knows it. “You want to take advantage of the privacy?” He drops down onto his cot and waggles his eyebrows a little. There’s something forced in it, and Hawkeye’s stomach burns hot and sharp.

He lets out a slow breath. “BJ, what are we doing?”

BJ pauses, looks up from untying his shoes with a carefully neutral expression. “What do you mean?”

“I mean what’s the difference between her and me?” The words stick in Hawkeye’s throat, but he forces them out. “Neither of us is Peg.”

“I know that,” BJ says.

Hawkeye swallows, acid burning in his throat. “So what, one affair is okay, but two is over the line?”

BJ rolls his eyes. “I’m not having an affair, Hawkeye,” he says, blasé, like this is just another version of the same argument they keep having, like the only problem here is that Hawkeye can’t accept what he’s allowed to have.

He should shut up. He should leave it before he does something really stupid, something that will break this thing between them and leave Hawkeye alone again, but testing boundaries is second nature, an instinct as hard-coded as breathing. “Then what would you call this?” he says, gesturing in the space between them, six feet of tent and so much more besides.

“How many times do we have to go through this?” BJ says. “It’s _different_ with you.”

“Why? Because your wife said it’s okay? Because you think you love me?”

“Because I _do_ love you!” BJ’s on his feet again, shoes half untied and chest heaving as he shouts across the tent. “God _damn_ _it_ , Hawkeye. I know you don’t want to believe you’re worth more than a roll in the hay, but you _are_.”

“Alright, fine,” Hawkeye says, throwing up his hands. Frustration leaks into his tone. “I’m fantastic, the bee’s knees, worth throwing your marriage under a bus for --”

“I am not ‘throwing my marriage’ anywhere,” BJ interjects, but Hawkeye ignores him.

“-- all I’m saying is if you could do it with me, what’s to stop you from doing it with her? You met us both because of the war, Beej; you can’t really think we’d still be doing this if we met in the States.”

“Yes I can!” BJ yells, stomping across the tent so he can loom over Hawkeye

Hawkeye tries not to flinch. “Why?”

“Because I _have_ to!” BJ’s hands curl into fists, and Hawkeye eyes them warily. “I _want_ Aggie, and that scares the hell out of me, but I don’t _need_ her. Not like I need you.”

“C’mon, Beej, you don’t need me,” Hawkeye says. He’s just another casualty of war, a fucked up mess that can’t be fixed with sutures and bandages, but BJ is so much stronger than he gives himself credit for. “Maybe I make it easier, but I’m not….” _Special_ , Hawkeye doesn’t say. _Worth it_.

“You _are_ ,” BJ insists. “How can you think all the casualties that come through here need your sewing in particular, but it’s absolutely impossible that I might need you too?” BJ’s fists are planted on his hips, and he stares down at Hawkeye, daring him to answer.

“Because I’m afraid you’ll regret it.” The words just slip out, far more honest than Hawkeye had intended to be. He looks down at the floor, unable to meet BJ’s eyes.

“I could never regret you,” BJ says softly. He lets out a long, slow breath and then sits down on the cot beside Hawkeye. “I told Aggie I can’t fall in love because of a war, but I already did. Maybe I can justify it because you’re stuck here too. Maybe it was a mistake. But I don’t regret it.”

“You will.” This is just another infidelity, misplaced homesickness and a desire for companionship.

“I won’t.” BJ slips his hand into Hawkeye’s and laces their fingers together. “Hawkeye, I --”

“Don’t say it.” His voice comes out too rough, and he doesn’t pull his hand back, but he wants to, itchy restlessness crawling over his skin. “Don’t you dare.” Maybe BJ’s right, that whatever this is could have blossomed without the war. And maybe that’s just an excuse BJ tells himself to justify finding comfort wherever he can. “I could have been anyone.”

BJ shakes his head. “There’s no one like you.”

Maybe it’s enough that BJ believes it. It’s enough for tonight at least -- in the morning, Aggie will leave and BJ’s conscience will be clear, whether it should be or not.

Hawkeye wishes he could say the same.


End file.
